


lights

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: rareprompts [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ennoshita Introspection, Gen, M/M, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4409801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Nishinoya, hurricane Nishinoya, who first throws the idea out there, and he makes it look careless. <i>No reason</i>, he says with a fiery grin.</p><p>Chikara, gritting his teeth, knows better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gliss/gifts).



> For Sospi, who is on fire for Ennoshita as much as I am, and who is one of the most ridiculously talented writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading. I hope this does Ennonoya the justice they deserve ♥

He's lily-white, and that's the great deception of his life.

Like the pale curve of a petal, an ephemeral scent in spring, he lets himself look delicate, inconsequential. If anyone touched him, surely, surely, he'd come unfurled; it's not like he doesn't know the feeling. He does it exceptionally well.

When he crumbles into dust, it's deliberate, because sometimes it's easier to just fall apart, and come back together when no one's looking.

 

/

 

It's always easier, when no one's looking at him.

 

/

 

It is Nishinoya, hurricane Nishinoya, who first throws the idea of his captaincy out there, and he makes it look careless. _No reason_ , he says with a fiery grin, as he downs an entire popsicle in two bites.

Chikara, gritting his teeth, knows better.

Nishinoya Yuu always has a reason, even if he doesn't know what it is himself. Mostly, he doesn't. Mostly, he _acts_. Thinks later. If at all.

The night is cool, pricking stars into his exposed arms. Chikara breathes lightly. In the sky, the constellations glow; within him, they are hidden in valleys, veiled in the moonlike whiteness of him. They shine only for those who choose to see.

 

/

 

Chikara isn't used to people calling him by his first name.

He used to think his parents were playing a cruel joke. Later, when he'd had the years to grow kinder, to let his kindness be a shield against the world, he'd understood better. If he's to hold it against anyone, it should be the universe, its strange sense of humour and little ironies; but even then, he thinks it should be himself, most of all, for not living up to the strength he was born to have.

Nishinoya Yuu has never called him _Ennoshita_.

They first meet in the spring, under the dim lights of a musty storeroom, and he calls him _Chikara_ , and the steel in his voice makes his name sound, for once, invincible.

Outside, the team assembles. _Chikara, let's go,_ says Nishinoya, tugging at his arm.

Chikara isn't used to people touching him so easily, either.

 

/

 

 _How do you do it?_ Nishinoya asks him, once.

The sun is blazing overhead. Stepping out of the gym for a moment, in search of respite from the stifling heat indoors, has only brought Chikara a red-hot tingling at the back of his neck.

 _Kiyoko-san never ignores you,_ he says, _and you're the only one!_

It's not rocket science, thinks Chikara. I'm just - me.

In the absence of an answer that will satisfy his curious libero, Chikara smiles, and shrugs. _Well…_

He lets his voice trail off, raises a hand, absently, to rub the sunburn where it's starting. Nishinoya regards him with crossed arms. His gaze is the one he wears on court.

 

_Surprisingly -_

_quiet._

 

Chikara can't shake the sudden feeling that he's being sized up, and that Nishinoya, in that one glance, has the measure of him, better than Chikara does himself.

 

/

 

He's lily-white, and here's the lie in that -

He is a chameleon. He does it well, painting himself into a corner, filling spaces where they're needed, so no one ever notices they were empty in the first place. He is their silence, their small talk, and their elevator music.

But white is not the absence of colour; it is every colour, _all of them_ , and he is not a blank canvas, he is the living, breathing body of someone who has taken it all in, who pulses, now, with concealed spotlights beneath his skin.

 

/

 

He is weak.

He is powerful.

He is a contradiction, to his own eyes, lost, then found.

_How do you know I won't leave again?_

The look that Nishinoya shoots him is vulnerable, and Chikara knows it's in these moments that he's strongest, brimming most with confidence, because he can _admit_ that vulnerability, and it does not shame him. It makes Chikara ache in the hollow of his chest.

_I don't._

_But -_

_But even if you do, Chikara - I know you'll come back._

 

/

 

It was easier to pretend when no one was looking. It was easier to hide behind insecurities.

Now, there's a set of watchful eyes always on him, and Chikara can no longer deny what he is.

 


End file.
